For Skyrim!
by mrstrancy
Summary: Follows Bendu Olo's adventures in Skyrim! :3 Sorry about stealin' Oblivion's PC name... M for the language, nothing else!


Bendu Olo was sat on a wooden chair in a tavern in Riverwood – a quaint little hamlet that she had escaped to after almost being executed by Imperial scum. Bendu Olo was a thourough born and bred Nord, and had simply attempted to escape the border to help friends, but no, it had all gone wrong and had been caught by the Imperial Commanding Officer. By the Divines, Bendu honestly hated everything about those worthless Imperial pigs. They had taken away everything that the Nords had held dear – until they rebelled.

The Stormcloaks rose up, and hundreds of Nords had taken enough – it was time to take back Skyrim, it was time to return the land to it's rightful owners – the true brothers and sisters of Skyrim.

But of course, a lot didn't agree. For one, the Dark Elves (especially in Windhelm, where the Dark Elves had lived in the slums for a great number of years now) had decided to take a neutral stance – but of course, they were highly prepared to fight for the Imperials if the Stormcloaks kept the oppression of the Elves in place.

It was a sunny day in Riverwood, in fact, most of Skyrim had been covered by a blue sky which had hardly been marred by clouds – but Bendu Olo knew that the truth was a dire one, for dragons had returned to the lands of Skyrim. And it was only a matter of time before the Black Wings came unfurled in the darkness, and Alduin, the bane of men, returned, and caused devastation for the whole province of Skyrim.

That dragon back in Helgen would probably be the dark side of Bendu Olo's dreams from now, and possibly cause much pain in her life for a while to come. Or at least until the terror subsides. She had never seen a Dragon before, much less been running from one. But from the legends that she had heard, she knew that they were fearsome, a force to be reckoned with – and definitely something you hoped never to see. Because from the legends, the coming of a dragon simply meant one thing – Alduin was returning. And that called for the return of something of a higher power – something that Bendu Olo had only heard of briefly in tales – the Dragon Born: man born with the soul of a dragon, the man with the power to master the dragon language, and destroy the dragon Alduin.

But of course, there hadn't been a dragon born in many centuries, and there wasn't just going to be another instantly when they were needed – no, it would be a while before one was discovered.

"So, where you headed after you leave Riverwood?" A patron chipped in.

"I was thinking heading north to Whiterun. I need to see the Jarl about… some private business."

"Ah, so keepin' private, eh? Eh well we all have our own things to do, am I right, lads?" The barkeep saw that Bendu Olo was dying to get out of there – she was squirming underneath their curiosity and needed to leave, it would take at least 3 days to journey into Whiterun hold – even then it was pushing it.

The thick accent of the Southern holds rang true here – it was plainly obvious that they were from Riverwood. There was also something about the people in Riverwood that made it so clear, something fresh about them. Something innocent that hadn't seen the spoils of civil war, and something that was still young in the battle between the Stormcloaks and Imperials. But it was only a matter of time before they were dragged into that waging battle, one that would not end peacefully. There would be much bloodshed before the end, much death, and nobody would like to see it end with the Imperials in charge. They'd rather leave Skyrim in a state of disrepair, but the Stormcloaks had the true blood of the Nords coursing through their veins! The true children of Skyrim would see this end with the Nords on top – the Imperial's would not go down without a fight, but they would go down in a pool of blood.

Bendu Olo wanted to see this civil war ended peacefully. No matter how much she loathed the Imperials, she knew that the blood of her brethren was spilling onto the ground as she sat, and she wanted no more deaths – because at the tip of a blade, her family had been killed. Her friends and family had been so dear to her, and then instantly, they lay dead. They lay lifeless at the hands of Imperial bastards.

As the crowd dispersed, smaller gatherings occurred and various conversations under hushed silence began. Bendu slipped out into the sun.

It was nearing noon – the day was young, and there was much to do, the most vital task on her list? Alert the Jarl of Whiterun as to the Dragon's appearance back in Helgen. They had to prepare… before it was too late.

She walked for about ten minutes before the dragon covered the sky – the sun which had illuminated the floor had receded, it was just the dark shadow of a dragon, now. Fearsome roars caused Bendu to run behind a rock, drawing her bow and aimind towards the sky, her heart racing, her breath hushed. She steadied her aim, and focused on the dragon, unsure if it was a wise move – but she had to kill it! What if she didn't? maybe she'd be killed in it's place, or perhaps that dragon would burn all of Whiterun – and again, that was a nightmare she didn't want to deal with.

Thoughts paced through her head before she made her choice – shoot it. Watch it bleed out, watch it _die._ She steadied herself, unprepared for whatever consequences would come back at her. Then, she shot it. The iron arrow flew through the sky at an immense speed, but it missed. The dragon looked back at her before shouting, and fire came from it's mouth like a tremendous spell. She fell to the floor and rolled down the hill in fear, watching the sky as the dragon circled the area and went north once more – it was headed to Whiterun. That much was clear.

Lying there for about five minutes, she simply observed the sky, and the forests which surrounded her. It wasn't snowing here, which made a change from the snow-topped mountains which resided higher up, near Winterhold and Dawnstar. She saw a few deer, running gracefully, and then she decided to test her aim once again. She grabbed her bow and in seconds, the deer fell in a whelp of pain.

"I still got it…"

~CHAPTER 1~

"What do you mean a dragon is heading to Whiterun? We have seen no dragon up here, no sightings of a dragon, have we Irileth?" The Jarl Balgruuf was a strong man, and did not want to believe Bendu. Dragons had long been extinct – not a single one had been seen near Whiterun for many years. But of course, there was always the worry that they could return. But only the Greybeards of High Hrothgar could know when they would return. But what threat could they pose? Probably easy to kill if the Grey Beards existed.

"Even so, my lord, we should be on high alert. If the dragons pose a threat, they could be a great danger to our city – and these stone walls may not be enough to defend against such manner of beast."

"You are right… huh… Maybe it would be best to order our guards to be on alert – order some of them to be on watch outside the city walls. Tell them to alert us if a dragon is sighted. But I see no-"

The Jarl was interrupted. The court wizard came in, panting a little. He looked shocked.

"My lord… a dragon has been sighted south. We must attack before it gets to be a danger to us all!" The Jarl stood up, and pointed towards the door.

"Take the fight to the Dragon, Irileth. Take a small unit of guards, and take this… this outsider. We have not dealt with a dragon here in many centuries, I do not wish for this city to fall under the first attack! Irileth, I do not expect you to know what to do in this event, but it a dire one, and we must succeed. If we do not, I fear the city will fall. Farengar, you have been looking into the dragons, you know better than us all what we should do. Irileth, alert the guards, Farenger and I – and the outsider – will discuss what our plan is."

"Right." Irileth ran out of the hall, shouting for the guards to prepare by the main gates.

Farengar looked at Bendu Olo, in a state of shock that the Jarl was trusting this… this _outsider._ What did they know about this woman? She was a Nord, sure, but how could they be sure who she was working for? She could be a spy, or worse, an assassin. "My lord, are you sure we should tru-"

"Irileth has asked me that already, Farengar. We need all the help we can get in order to protect our fair city from this… this brute. Now just tell us the plan, Farengar. And hurry."

"Bows and arrows would be the best way around it… going up to it with swords and axes would just leave the unit in shreds – you need to attack from a distance. These things attack with fire using something called the Voice… or in their tongue, the Thu'um. They are deadly up close, but not as much so at a distance. This outsider should keep on high altitude and shoot. You have a bow, right? If not, we have an armory, we can let you borrow some stuff provided you return it afterwards."

"I have come fully armed, my lord."

"Right, then we should get started on planning…"

"MY LORD HURRY! IT HAS BREACHED THE SOUTH TOWER! GET WHAT YOU NEED AND COME ON!"

"Outsider! Meet them by the South Tower, and hurry! In the name of the Divines, HURRY!"

Five soldiers ran, hurrying out of the great Dragonsreach and running through the town, as people hurried into homes, and those still unaware to the dragon ran with crowds into the Bannered Mare, fleeing to protect themselves from an unknown danger.

Irileth was standing outside the gates, bearing her swords.

"Swords don't work against dragons!"

"Who are you to tell me what to do, stranger? I'm in charge here, not you!"

"Farengar told me! I don't care if you are in charge or not, we have to work together to kill it!"

"Fine! Come on men! To arms!"

The dragon was mighty. It was silver, and spat fire as it circled the tower, the men hurried, each of them working hard, some creating diversions – but all of them full of fear, trembling with terror.

Irileth took the leading stance at the bottom of the tower, directing men up the remains of a turret and to the roof. Bendu Olo followed, and as the dragon soared to and fro, Bendu got an arrow directly in it's wing. It slammed into the ground, and dust and scales flew everywhere. A few men took their chances, running at it bearing swords and maces, screaming battle cries as they began slashing and hacking, only to be burned to ash in the fire.

Within moments, the dragon got up, and spat more fire, roaring, and installing fear into even Irileth who had been a great warrior.

Arrows flew, the sky got darker, storms began and each of them full of fear. It was every man to his own, and Bendu Olo had the strangest sensation that she knew what to do. As the dragon flew towards her, she shoved a blade into into neck and pulled herself up, again, she was scared. If she fell, it was game over. And the dragon didn't want to make it easy.

"DIE!" She shoved a blade into it's neck again, and sliced through, and it went crashing to the ground, each of the soldiers stopped in amazement. Was it dead? Did this one stranger single handedly manage to kill it? No, it wasn't possible.

Or was it?

Bendu pulled her swords out, grabbing some of it's scales and pocketed them. She got off and picked up a silver long sword and sliced it's neck to the bone – she was now certain it was dead.

She stood there, out of breath, completely astonished. She'd just killed a dragon. She touched her face – it was bloody, she was certain she'd been cut when she jumped on it, maybe she'd been scratched by an arrow, she knew an arrow had skimmed her bare leg, where the armour had ridden up slightly. She had to get better armour, next time she may not be as lucky.

"Outsider… you… we owe you our thanks."

She was about to accept their gratitude, when something amazing happened. The dragon started… glowing. It's scales and skin began to vanish, and it seemed as though it's very essence was being transferred to her, and she felt different. She felt powerful. And in that light which she was absorbing, she felt knowledge, she felt truth, and she could hear voices. Voices of those long dead. Voices… of dragons… and in the voices she knew she could understand the words, that she had something in common – she felt bound to them through some unknown force. But strangely, deep down, she knew.

"W-what was that?" Irileth ran over, pulling out her sword. "What was that, stranger?"

"I… I don't know Irileth." She stood perfectly still as Irileth pointed her sword at her throat.

"Come with me. We need to find out what you are. Don't try anything, outsider. Or we _will _attack. Trust me on that much, stranger."


End file.
